Christmas Eve in the Bunker
by DeansBabyBird
Summary: Just a little moment in time, cause it's Christmas and I'm feeling sentimental. Softly Destiel so turn back if you choose. Happy Christmas All.


**Just a little moment in time, cause it's Christmas and I'm feeling sentimental. **

**Softly Destiel, so turn back if you choose.**

**Merry Christmas all. **

**Christmas Eve in the bunker**

It's Christmas eve, and the bunker is heady with the smell of festive fayre. Cinnamon and nutmeg perfume the atmosphere from the home-made pies and cakes Dean has been all day baking and the spices blend with the clean sharpness of the giant spruce tree that dominates the lounge.

The hunters are contentedly weary, the preparations they have made for tomorrow's gathering have been huge but it will all be worth it when Charlie and Garth and Jody join them for their first Christmas dinner in a place they can almost call home.

Sam is sprawled untidily on the lounge's big, red-leather recliner, his shoes kicked-off and his gigantic feet angled toward the cheery glow of the open fire. He is warm, his belly is pleasantly full and he feels...safe. It's a good feeling, one he could easily get used to and he smiles as he looks across to the massive old sofa where his brother and their ex-angel currently reside.

Cas is seated sideway-on, his back against the arm of the couch, one leg parallel to the plump cushions and his other foot on the floor. He's a little...tilted, like the Earth is not quite stable and Sam can't help but find it amusing. The guy's only had two egg-nogs and a beer all day but for a former celestial wavelength that's bordering on over-indulgence and Cas is more than a little tipsy.

Dean is cross-legged at the opposite end of the old, brown couch. He has an almost-finished mug of hot chocolate resting on one knee and an un-realized smudge of whipped cream on his upper lip. He's still dressed in the old black t-shirt and tattered jeans he's had on all day and the shirt has puffs of flour mottling the thin cotton from the mince pies that are cooling in the kitchen. The elder Winchester is humming softly along with the melodic crooning coming from the old MoL record-player. His face is utterly relaxed, his green eyes bright with flashes of color from the tiny twinkling lights that adorn the tree and Sam is struck by how contented his brother looks and that's something else Sam could happily get used to.

"Dean..?"

Cas's voice is slightly slurred and Sam raises an amused eyebrow to Dean before both brothers look toward him. Cas smiles sloppily and holds his glass out toward the elder man.

"What?"

Dean does a good job of looking like he doesn't understand what Cas wants but Sam can see the small quirk of a smile playing at his brother's lips. Cas frowns and tips the glass upside down demonstrating it's pathetic emptiness.

"Please...Dean...I need more of your egg-nog!"

"And you think I should go get it for ya?"

Dean snarks unconvincingly as Cas nods smiling his best, if slightly lop-sided, winning smile.

"Yup!"

He answers confidently and it amuses Sam. Cas may still be learning to be human and lots of things confuse him but he sure has got wheedling down to a fine art.

"You don't think you've maybe had enough?"

Dean's voice has that parental tone that Sam remembers occasionally from his childhood and he grins at the memory as Cas snorts with laughter.

"No...I do not think that I have had enough, Dean..."

Castiel slurs happily, stretching out his foot and poking the elder Winchester playfully in the ribs with the toe of his sneaker.

"I am perfectly sober, it's just that I find your negg...egg-nog delicious and I wish to immerse myself whole-heartedly in human Christmas traditions by sampling some more."

Dean nods thoughtfully, glancing toward Sam. His face says 'good answer for a near drunk' and Sam nods in return as Dean uncrosses his legs and shifts forward on the seat.

"Okay, Castiel, I wouldn't want to be accused of neglecting your education."

Dean lifts his mug and drains the remains of his hot chocolate before rising to head for the kitchen. His bad knee clicks audibly as he straightens and a small hiss of pain escapes his lips before he can call it back.

"You okay?"

Sam asks and Cas is on his very-wobbly feet faster than either of then anticipated he'd be capable of as Dean staggers into him.

"'M'fine..."

Dean grinds out as Cas and he jig about, grabbing elbows in a mutual gesture of support. The ex-angel's other hand comes to rest on Dean's hip and Sam notes with interest that Dean makes no move at all to shift it.

"Dean?"

Castiel's wide blue eyes are suddenly way more focussed and their focus is entirely on Dean.

"It's your knee, isn't it?"

Dean hesitates but there's no escaping that cobalt stare and he nods, leaning unconsciously into Cas's grip as he stabilizes the arthritic joint and get's his weight centered again.

"I'm fine, Cas. Don't worry."

He smiles, one of the really good ones that starts in his gut, animates his entire face and lights his eyes with a flicker of gold against the green. It's a smile that say's 'thanks for worrying about me.'.

"Stupid bum leg."

He leans to his right and rubs at the knee damaged too many times in one hunt or another.

"Sit down, Dean..."

Sam says as he goes to rise from the recliner.

"I'll go get the drinks."

"Nah..."

Dean straightens quickly and steps reasonably confidently onto his damaged leg as Cas let's go his elbow. The hand at his hip tightens imperceptibly though.

"No need Sam, I'm good."

Sam raises his eyebrow questioningly.

"Really. I'm okay. I got the kinks outta it now. Gimme..."

Dean smiles and reaches impatiently for the glass Sam is holding as Castiel wobbles beside him.

"I will help you carry the drinks, Dean."

The angel's diction is a shade too pronounced even for Cas and Dean places his hand gently against the furry reindeer that adorns the appallingly kitsch Christmas sweater that neither Sam nor he have been able to pry from Cas's body since he acquired it from the thrift shop.

"Not such a good idea Cas. I think more would end up on the floor than inside us if you're in charge."

Dean presses, his hand surprisingly warm on the former-angel's chest as he urges Cas back to his place on the sofa.

"You sit down and keep Sammy company, I can carry three damn drinks without an escort you know, I'm not a damned invalid."

Dean grumbles good-naturedly as Castiel flops in loose relief back to the cushioned couch as Dean limps slowly to the other room.

Sam tactfully ignores how Cas's fingers twine briefly with his brother's as they part.

snSNsn

Dean returns with the drinks and a plate of Christmas cookies that must be home made cause there's no way he's bought them in any store in town.

Sam takes his egg-nog and stares with fascination at the plate that Dean sets on the little side-table next to his chair. The elder Winchester grins and turns to hand Cas a small measure of the creamy yellow-mellowness before bending carefully to retake his seat next to the smiling ex-angel.

His knee is clearly still bothering him and it grates and creaks as he folds. It gets like that now on cold days and on those days Sam is particularly glad Castiel is there cause the once-angel can usually get Dean to take the pain meds that he won't entertain for anyone else.

"Is this..."

Sam holds up a tasty-looking cookie, his eyebrows raised as Dean nods proudly.

"Yup! Christmas ghoul, Sammy."

Sam laughs and grabs a second cookie.

"And this is a..?"

The confused Winchester turns the sweetmeat this way and that in his fingers, showing it to Cas, who shrugs but giggles as he sips his egg-nog.

"Wendigo."

Dean huffs as if Sam's being deliberately obtuse as he rubs distractedly at his sore knee.

"You made supernatural Christmas cookies?"

Sam's face is a picture. Something between incredulity and bemused delight.

"Well, I didn't have any snowman cutters or anything..."

Dean reasons.

"So I...you know...improvised and made stuff we know."

He snags a cookie himself as he speaks. It's possibly a hellhound although it has maybe six legs? Well it has till Dean bites it in half and chews happily on the spicy sweetness. Whatever it is, it taste good, as does Sam's ghoul and they eat appreciatively.

"Why don't you put your leg up, Dean."

Cas breaks the silence and Dean moves his hand self-consciously from his knee as he realizes he's rubbing at it again.

"I believe it will feel better if you do."

Cas leans forward and takes Dean's glass from his hand, tapping him gently on the thigh. Dean shifts awkwardly. He's never good as the centre of attention and he glances at Sam, who nods encouragingly and Dean rolls his eyes but makes a move to sit back, clearly aiming to lift his foot onto the coffee table.

"No..."

Cas grabs at Dean's arm, pulling at him, but Dean doesn't get what he wants him to do so the ex-angel tutts and pulls some more.

"No, Dean, put your leg up on the sofa. It will support your knee much better..."

He pats the slightly-worn brown material indicating the cushion right up by him and for a moment Dean looks like he's gonna move but then his eyes flit to Sam's and he halts abruptly.

"Nah, Cas..."

Dean shakes his head.

"There's not enough room."

He waves his hands vaguely at the sofa, trying to indicate that two six foot guys are gonna be crowded on the one couch. His face is a curious mixture of indecisiveness, doubt and possibly need and it pulls at Sam's heart.

"Sure there is."

Cas insists, leaning in closer and grabbing at the hunter's arms but Dean holds firm, his eyes everywhere but on his brother. Sam waits, knowing that Dean will look at him eventually and he does and when he does, Sam just nods.

Dean's eyes widen but he holds still. There's a silent understanding that passes between them. A permission sought and gratefully given. A look in that nervous green gaze that speaks volumes and Sam nods again and watches as his brother's body relaxes fractionally.

He lets Castiel tug him round and dutifully lifts his legs till he's laying out near full length. Dean's back is to the new-human's chest, his body parallel to Cas elevated leg, his arm lying casually on the ex-angel's thigh.

It's stiff and awkward for a moment or two but Sam goes with the flow and slowly he watches as Dean relaxes.

Cas's arm has come round Dean's ribs and lies on his belly, his hand spread wide, his thumb rubbing circles on the floury patterns on Dean's shirt.

They fit together well.

Dean's heads rolls back, the stiffness leaving his neck and shoulders.

"Here..."

Cas passes Dean his glass and they drink as the old music plays softly in the background.

They don't speak and in time, Sam nods in the warmth and safety.

snSNsn

When Sam wakes the fire has near died but the room is still warm and cozy.

On the sofa Dean is asleep. He's breathing soft and slow and with each breath his hands where they are twined with Cas's, against his belly, rise and fall. He's turned slightly as he's slumbered and his head is tucked up under the once-angels chin, his cheek pressed to the fluffy rein-deer emblazoned over Cas's heart.

He looks totally at peace. Like he...belongs.

Sam raises his eyes to Cas and the new-human smiles and tightens his grip.

'Anything you need before I turn in?"

Sam rises as he speaks but Cas shakes his head. The younger Winchester takes the old throw that is folded over the back of the recliner and shakes it out, draping it over the pair of them.

'Goodnight, Cas."

Sam smiles as Cas wraps the cover around Dean, smiles wide at the look that graces Cas's face as he looks down at the slumbering hunter.

It's going to be a good Christmas and he's happy. Really happy.

ends

**Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.**


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